


Playing With Fire

by Lightspeed



Series: Monstrous Intent [28]
Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, Coitus Interruptus, Confessions, Cyborgs, Djinni & Genies, Dullahan!Soldier, Dullahans, Fantastic Racism, Faun!Scout, Fauns & Satyrs, Frottage, Garuda - Freeform, Identity Reveal, Kitsune, M/M, Making Love, Making Out, Multi, Open Relationships, Relationship(s), Rimming, Romance, Rubber, Sexual Frustration, Squick, Threesome, Tickling, Werewolf!Demoman, Werewolves, cyborg!Engineer, djinni!Pyro, garuda!Medic, kitsune!Spy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-30
Updated: 2015-02-06
Packaged: 2018-03-09 16:21:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 19,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3256484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lightspeed/pseuds/Lightspeed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Engineer’s sexual frustration reaches its breaking point, Pyro sends him to Spy for…assistance.  Thanks to his own expertise at certain oral endeavours, he learns a secret, learns a lesson, and then learns a much more important secret.</p><p>(This is the updated version, re-written and expanded, and far, far superior.  Apologies for posting a sub-par edition to begin with.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"And then the Spy rears back to stab him, and then this shadow just falls over the both of them. The Spy and Heavy turn around to see Medic, like forty feet up, sailing right for them with his bonesaw in hand! You know that grin he does when he takes down the RED Scout with his syringe gun? Or when he's got a really, really bad pun in mind he just _has_ to tell someone?" Pyro curled up closer to Engineer, capturing one of the stout mechanic's artificial legs between his own, clad in a layer of asbestos-lined rubber beneath the soft fibers of a set of periwinkle footie pajamas.

Their bed bowed a bit at the middle, where the pair of mattresses that comprised it met. The metal frames and headboards had been welded together as a quick solution, but they hadn't bothered to get a new mattress to lay upon. Instead, some sheets were wedged into the crack, though it still sagged a bit between them, from where they would curl up close together in the night.

Kicking his free leg a bit to get the blankets to behave, Engineer chuckled, his arm around the taller man encouraging the increased closeness. He wore only his boxers, content with the warmth of Pyro beside him, one rubber-gloved hand petting slow circles on his bare belly. "No matter why, when you see that grin, it's a good idea to high-tail it. Ain't never a good sign."

"Yeah! So, anyway, Medic's got that grin on, and it was like a moment frozen in time. Medic diving head and arms-first for the Spy, Heavy whirling around with Sascha, bombs and explosions and bullets flying! And like that," Pyro attempted to snap his fingers but succeeded only in a rubber squeak, "Medic  _plows_ into the RED Spy and they go tumbling off the bridge into the water, Heavy turns to see, and I run up to cover him from their Scout. In the water there's a bunch of sloshing and screaming and when I looked there was a whole lot of red. It goes still and quiet for a second, and then Medic bursts up to the surface, laughing, stray feathers from the fight floating up around him. It was so great! And the best part was after all of that, he lifts up the Spy's severed arm and waves it at us up on the bridge and yells, 'Bitte, could someone spare me a hand?'"

"He  _did_ have a pun ready!" Engineer howled, palm on his forehead as his belly juddered with laughter.

"I know!" Pyro replied with a giggle, hunching up into a ball against his boyfriend, trying to stifle his laughter a bit.

They held each other, letting their chuckles die down and disperse into the dark shadows of their shared quarters. The night was unseasonably warm, stars twinkling merrily outside their window, marred only by the few lights attached to the base's outbuildings and silos, but beyond that, blackness rolled over the desert, carried along dry winds for miles. The bases at 2fort were lonely, just far enough from civilization that the city lights didn't reach them, and the only noises that reached their oasis away from society were the whispering desert winds, the hum of the bases' machinery, and the shuffling and grunting of life all around them, eighteen men hired to murder one another for fun and profit.

Sometimes Pyro wondered what this place would be to him in a few centuries. Would it be a footnote of blood and violence like so many ink spots on the pages of his history, or would he look back on the bases, particularly 2fort, where they always spent so much time, as something far more? Would it be a place of love and companionship, camaraderie and freedom amidst the carnage? Would it be salted earth and spilled guts, or Eden with a light sprinkling of gore?

Peering through tinted lenses at the crooked smile of his Texan tinkerer, Pyro smiled to himself. He had a feeling he knew the answer.

Pyro's gloved fingers trailed up to Engineer's chest, threading through the blond hair that fluffed up along his chest. He watched intently, unable to feel it, but enjoying the sight of his hair moving around his fingertips.

He wondered what he felt like. He bet that the tarnished gold of his hair was soft, in spite of the silver that had just begun to start creeping in. It would be amazing to trail his nose through it and press kisses at its centre where his scent was strongest. Perhaps to trail his lips along that hairy skin and press kisses along his sternum and down his belly, maybe mush his face into the pudge of the mechanic's paunchy belly. Maybe trail his lips lower.

Instead, he elected to dig his fingers in and tickle Engineer just above his navel, making the shorter man yelp and swat Pyro's hand away. He gave him a sour look, mouth twisted tight and brows furrowed, and quickly snatched hold of the firebug's wrist in one strong hand. The Texan tugged his lover closer, and bringing his gloved hand to his lips, kissed his knuckles gently before using Pyro's own hand to smack his masked face. The firebug yelped in reaction to the soft impact and collapsed into a fit of giggles, throwing his arms back around Engineer and replying with a soft tickle at his side before finally relenting.

Satisfied that Pyro was up to no more trouble, Engineer muttered, "You little shit," and leaned over to press a kiss to his forehead, lips contacting stretched rubber with a comfortable familiarity. "I dunno why I put up with you."

"Because you love me," Pyro teased, grin audible behind his filters.

"Mmm, that _is_ true." Engineer hemmed and hawed a bit before kissing his lover again with a crooked smile. "I do love you."

"I love you too," the firebug echoed happily, cuddling in close.

Engineer nuzzled at Pyro's mask a bit, feeling his chest tighten, youthful flutters rising inside him like a man half his age. It would almost be silly, and if the Dell Conagher who existed before his assignment to the Gravel Wars were asked if someday he'd be perfectly content in a relationship with a man whose face he'd never seen, whose body he'd never touched, and respect that distance entirely because he was so enthralled by the person himself, that Dell Conagher would have called you a damn idiot and threw a wrench at you for bringing up his preference for men to begin with. A man has his privacy, after all.

 

Yet here he was. He'd never considered himself a loner, after all. He was a friendly sort, amiable and companionable, always ready with a clever story or a vote of confidence or a well-needed telling-off. He'd gone through most of his life with a crooked smile and a laid-back countenance, well-crafted to show his warmth and keep him liked by those around him, but just distant yet approachable enough to keep people at bay. After all, nobody could be that damned nice. He had to have an angle.

He did, of course. But that angle was the desire to not be alone but left to his devices, literally and figuratively. The tinkerer was always most comfortable when he had his work and a friend to shoot the shit with, without the expectation of constant attention or connection.

It was why when he'd first arrived on base, Sniper and he had become fast friends. Like most, he'd been confused and wary about Pyro. Who was he? What was he? Was he, _he_? He was a mystery, and one that seemed friendly enough, but unsure how to go about all of it.

Of course, none of that really mattered, in the end. Pyro was exactly the kind of friend he'd been looking for. He was exactly the kind of person he'd been looking for. The first day Pyro had slipped into his workshop to look about for a bit, peeking at equipment and being sure not to touch or bump anything. When Engineer had finally noticed his presence, he asked him what he needed, smiling and friendly. Pyro wasn't trying to hurt anything, so it was worth the benefit of the doubt.

Pyro had asked for recommendations on what to use to make a set of horns to attach to his mask, or an armature for wings. Engineer asked him what ever for, to which the firebug replied that even though Halloween was eight months away, he'd gotten the idea, and figured he should start early. He wanted to dress as a demon. Seemed appropriate, he shrugged. Everyone sort of treated him like some kind of malevolent entity anyway.

And it was that casual moment that made Engineer realize how he'd been treating the poor masked man. He set down his pencil, rounded on Pyro, threw an arm over his shoulder, and told him all he had to tell about different types of construction foam, how to primer, seal, and sand things, and good base-coat paints. He admitted he didn't have much skill in painting, though, judging by the chips on his beloved sentries. It had never been his forte. Construction, however, he could totally help Pyro with. They'd make it a project!

If he'd have been able to see Pyro's eyes, he was sure they'd've lit up.

And that had been that. The two began to spend their time together in the workshop when they weren't working on equipment maintenance (which Pyro had taken to doing in the shop as well). They chatted, mostly about Engineer's life and Pyro's interests in cute animals and art, and built a threatening three-part Halloween costume.

It had come as a pleasant surprise when Pyro came in one day with a set of brushes, a palette, some paints, a bit of matte medium and gloss medium, and some newspaper and showed Engineer all he knew about painting in three dimensions. It had been a lesson for the Texan, and an exchange in knowledge for both, and when their project was finished, they were both sad to see they didn't have much else to do. The time they'd spent together had proven to be something special, a friendship blooming between the two unlikely allies.

Then Pyro had suggested that Engineer needed a costume, and he had a really gross idea. The Legend of Bugfoot was born.

It wasn't much time at all before they'd begun spending all of their time together. They worked as a perfect team on the field, crafted and stretched their creative muscles together in the evenings, and chatted at all times between. It had been Spy who first noticed the way they had started looking at one another, mentioning it to Engineer with a sly chuckle.

It might have been a joke. It might not have been. Either way, it was terrifically true, and that night when Pyro met Engineer with a hug in the workshop after they cleaned up from work, he'd been the one to hazard a kiss to the firebug's masked forehead.

Pyro had frozen, stunned, trembling a bit, and when goggle lenses locked with gasmask lenses, a genuine smile creeping across the Texan's face, he flung himself at the shorter man, bowling both of them over in one of the most aggressive hugs Engineer had ever received.

 

Pyro was everything he could want. He was funny, exuberant, and creative. An artistic counterpoint to his analytical way of thinking, excitable where he was calm, outgoing where he was a bit of a homebody. They gelled together perfectly, like two parts of a whole, balancing one another as two parts of a whole.

The quiet settled back in, their breaths filling the silence between words, the room seemingly pregnant with emotion and heat, and it warmed them both. After a long while, Pyro's head resting on Engineer's chest, the shorter man rubbing slow circles on his partner's fleece-clad back, it was Engineer who broke the silence.

"Py, you okay?"

"Hm? Yeah, why?"

"You been awful melancholy lately, and I know a lot of it is my doin'. And it eats me up."

"No, Dell, it's just--"

"Now don't go makin' excuses for me. I know you and I ain't on the same page with my prosthetics."

Pyro sighed, his breath hissing through his filters with a tinny rattle. "What about them?"

"I know you don't like 'em. You don't like them bein' artificial, and me hackin' off perfectly healthy pieces for the sake of science. And I get that and respect it. But it's also my life's work, darlin'. And it's important to me. It's part of why I'm perfecting the realism of them before putting anything on me. I only field test as part of me once I'm sure you won't be missin' nothin', even if it sets back my time tables."

"That's...really?"

"Yeah. I didn't know it'd still get you so rankled even with the exact simulation," Engineer admitted, his voice soft, thoughtful.

"It is a perfect replica," Pyro hummed, taking his lover's false hand between his gloves and inspecting it. He closed his vision to the glowing colours of the fae, limiting himself to the material world in which his dear Dell dwelt. It was immaculate in every way, every hair, every vein, every tiny scar and scrape replicated in painstaking detail. How long had it taken Engineer to accomplish this? He started. "Wait, you did all of this."

"Yes?" Engineer asked, confused by the statement.

"Mister, 'I ain't an artist, just look at the sentries and their chipped paint,' recreated his own hand in plastics and machinery perfectly? With this level of detail?"  
"I may not be an artist, but I've had one hell of a teacher," Engineer grinned, wiggling his false fingers in Pyro's grasp and cherishing the soft puff of a laugh that greeted him in reply, gloved hands struggling to keep hold a moment.

Pyro lifted Engineer's hand to his mask, pressing his knuckles to the front filter. A smooch sound resonated from inside his mask. A kiss on the knuckles. "That's incredible. You're incredible. I'm sorry they freak me out so much."

"Is there anythin' I can do to remedy that?"  
Pyro thought for a moment. That was a hell of a request. How would one make something that reads as metal and wires and hard square reflective shapes on one layer feel natural when on another layer it's indistinguishable from biology? "Can I think about that?"

"Take all the time you need, darlin'. These are important, but so are you. I don't wanna lose one for the other." He pulled Pyro tight into his arms, clutching him like he might disappear at any moment.

"I'd never make you," Pyro assured him, rubbing his forehead against the Texan's jaw.

"I just don't wanna be so stubborn that _I_ make me."  
"You are pretty stubborn."

Engineer smirked. "No idea what you're talkin' about."

"Oh please! You'd stand in the path of a tornado if it was coming up from behind! 'Nope, no way, I don't see it with my own eyes.'"

"Why you--" and the tickling was on again, Engineer digging his hands up under Pyro's armpits and wriggling his fingers for all they worth. He upended the two of them, blankets flying about as he rolled on top of the firebug to straddle him and hold him down.

Pyro gasped and flailed, trying to fight the brawny mechanic off as he squirmed and shrieked, wriggling in Engineer's strong grasp. "No! Hey! Not fair! Not faiiiirr!"

"Say, 'Uncle'!"

"No!"

"Well then I guess I'm just gonna keep ticklin' ya."

"Aaah, noo!" Pyro kicked and fought, shoving at his boyfriend's face and shoulders to try and dislodge him, his arms like jelly under the tickling assault. "Fine!" he cried, "Uncle!"

Engineer, true to his word, stopped the vicious motion of his cruel fingers, but kept his hands where they were. Pyro fought at him, tittering nervously as each motion wrenched more ticklish agony out of him. "If you stop movin' it'll stop ticklin'."

"I can't! Ah! Stop!"

"I did stop."

"You suck!"

The Texan chuckled at that. "At times, I do." He pulled his hands away, bracing them instead on the bed so that he could lean down and pepper Pyro's mask with kisses, the taste of rubber on his lips as he pressed them to forehead, cheek, jaw, and neck.

"Mmm," Pyro sighed, wrapping his arms around his lover, sneaking a hand down to give his bottom a squeeze.

"Well now." Engineer chuckled against the firebug's neck and nosed in where it met his jaw, rubber creaking against his skin, and licked a stripe up the mask there, enjoying the replying hum as Pyro felt the pressure and warmth.

 

It was maddening, for both of them, but Pyro wasn't sure who had it worse. When their relationship had begun, the question of his suit had hung in the air like an odor nobody would cop to being the cause of. Engineer didn't want to ask, and Pyro didn't know what to say. Mostly he worried how the practical mechanic would react. He was a man grounded in science and fact, who crafted beauty from the mundane, working metal into machine and machine into magic, a son of Brigid and Hephaestus, contemporary to Weyland and the dwarves. Would he understand? Pyro wasn't even sure if he'd even seen a person outside his species before.

Oh, he was aware. Of course he was aware. It was hard not to be aware, especially with Soldier's association with that wizard, Merasmus, whose age and skill with manipulating the fabric of reality was only matched by his boasting and lack of skill for necromancy. The RED Soldier's living situation made things only more confusing and troublesome.

Plus, there was the time they were chased by the ghost of Zephenaiah Mann out at the Harvest base, and when that gourd-skulled dullahan, the Horseless Headless Horsemann had made their lives chaos for a few weeks while they were stationed trying to take the old Mann family manor. In all reality, the majority of the team's encounters with the supernatural had been largely negative. Of course, when not actively currying the favour of creatures of myth, it was frustratingly the most common way humans and sprites interacted.

So he'd decided to feel things out. Figure things out. He told Engineer he didn't feel comfortable leaving the suit. It was a deeply personal reason, and he was sorry about it. And it wasn't the whole truth, but it was certainly true.

To his surprise, though now he wasn't sure why it had surprised him so much, Engineer had asked no more questions. Simply nodded, smiled, and said, "That's just fine, darlin'. I don't ever want to make you uncomfortable or feel unsafe, alright? We can figure somethin' out. I sure'd love to see your face, but you're not just your face. And I already think you're gorgeous."

He was always like that. Sweet as candy. Pyro quite liked candy.

 

Engineer ground against Pyro a bit, his breath getting deeper, slower, hungrier. He kissed there, at the junction of neck and jaw, nosing in against rubber and warmth, and laid his body atop his lover's, feeling his warmth resonate up through the suit and fleece pajamas. Pyro held him tight, sighing softly at the contact, the pressure and closeness, and closed his eyes, soaking in the moment. Heat welled in his gut as the shorter man rode him, waking him, and he knew it couldn't last but it didn't matter. Pyro held him down and encouraged him to continue, cursing quietly in a few languages the Texan couldn't understand.

He wanted Engineer. He wanted not just his heart and mind, but his body as well. The rule of threes was a powerful one, and Pyro would be an absolute liar if he said he didn't find the stout, burly mechanic incredibly sexy. How could he not? He was five feet, six inches of compact, broad muscle, with a soft tummy and the thick thighs and bottom of a man who did quite a bit of lifting but also quite a bit of sitting, perched on his stool in front of a drafting table or work bench, tinkering away at his magnificent death machines. He was hard and soft, big yet small, and when he spoke, his voice took hold of Pyro in gentle hands and caressed him carefully.

It was certainly doing that now, half-mumbled words of love spoken in a low, smoky drawl against his mask between kisses and licks. He would deny it if confronted, but Pyro was sure that Engineer had a bit of a thing for rubber. Not that he minded, of course.

The Texan was hard, rutting against Pyro's suit, glad for the firm pressure from inside the suit against him. Of course Pyro was aroused. The firebug pictured his hands skidding over those flexing muscles, gripping shoulders and digging in nails. He imagined their bellies together, hips grinding bare against one another, those warm lips on his neck, no suit to separate them, bodies moving as one as their lust and love took form in desperate, ecstatic moans. Engineer rocked against him, wondering what the same would be like, and Pyro gripped him close, his hands shaking.

It was all so much, heat building and climbing, fires burning within them both, threatening to engulf him. The dull throbs of their limited contact thumped through him in slow tremors, spreading and dispersing as the sensation guttered and waved, sparked anew with each roll of their hips. He would sweat, if able, growing warmer, hotter. So hot. Too hot. Like he was going to overflow and spill out, and he could feel himself trying to slip through the seams.

"Dell, I can't--" Pyro whimpered, raising a shoulder to pinch the shorter man's face out of the crook of his neck. "I can't. Too much."

Like a shot, Engineer was off of him, kneeling at his side, worry on his features. Pyro could tell immediately that inside, he was kicking himself. "I'm sorry, darlin'. You alright?"

"Yeah, I just—it was too much. I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I'm sorry for startin' it."

"I didn't stop you; I wanted it too."

"Yeah."

Their breaths were short, noisy, and it filled the awkward silence that descended between them, an unwelcome guest smothering them with its presence. The very air felt heavy, and neither could meet the other's eye for long moments.

Engineer settled down onto his backside, playing with one leg of his boxers, fingering at its hem. He was quickly losing his erection, shame and guilt overriding the ardor that had consumed them both. It was always like this when he and Pyro would get frisky, and he knew it. He knew better, and it made Pyro uncomfortable. He was selfish, and disrespectful. Pyro always said he wanted it, spoke of Engineer as though he lusted after him just the same, but he couldn't go to far during sexual things. It had to do with the suit, but that was all he knew. No matter how much his darling consented, even instigated, to Engineer, he was the one out of line.

Pyro watched Engineer, his eyes prickling, his face hot, feeling stretched and spread out, unfurled within his suit and teetering on the edge of losing his shape. He panted slowly, focusing on his breathing to give himself an anchor, trying to collect himself. It was always like this when he and Engineer would get frisky, and he knew it. He knew better, and it wasn't fair to Engineer. It was foolish, and dangerous. Engineer wanted him so badly, and he wanted him too, longing for his lover, but every time things heated up, the impending doom of revealing himself dragged him straight to terror, and he would have to call it off. He shouldn't let it get that far in the first place, only to disappoint his beloved. It was cruel, and he owed Engineer better than that.

They grew calm, the silence between them an aching eternity now. Pyro was the first to speak, "I'm sorry. You can finish if you want."

Engineer shook his head. "Naw. I ain't up for it anymore anyway. Besides. Ain't fair if I'm the only one."

"I don't mind. I like watching you," Pyro cooed.

That coaxed a smile out of the shorter man, but still accompanied by a refusal. "It's okay. I'm good. How's about we get us some sleep before we get ourselves in more trouble? Got the weekend ahead of us and I'd rather not sleep through half of it."

Grateful for the change of topic, Pyro nodded, opening his arms. Engineer joined Pyro in a tight hug, then settled in with him, tugging the blankets back up. "Okay. Love you."

"Love you too, Sandwich," Pyro teased with his silliest nickname, trying to save the mood a little.

It got a chuckle. "G'night, you little terror."

"Night."


	2. Chapter 2

Soldier slid through the door, closing it behind him and leaning against the dented metal painted a pale, washed-out blue. A white circle containing a foot with a winged ankle was painted three quarters of the way up its height, denoting it as Scout's quarters. The air in the hallway was cooler, crisper, and didn't smell unrelentingly of sex and energy drinks. He closed his eyes and relished the moment of solace, trying to ignore the lazy shuffling inside. He should've known the little bastard would have so much energy in the morning; he was usually up and out for a run by the time the rest of the team was still considering breaking their alarms. A fine Saturday morning. He ached all over.

"Nice collection o' bites there, lad," Demoman teased, leaning casually against the wall opposite, a pair of pop bottles in his hand. He indicated Soldier's neck with the unopened of the two, the other half-drank, cola sloshing about inside as he moved.

With a frown, Soldier opened his eyes, looking to his grinning friend. What a smartass. "I'm hiding many, many more," he grunted, a little dismayed with the obvious markings. He stepped over and took the unopened bottle when offered it, using his helmet to pop its cap.

"Hickeys, too." The Scot whistled, craning to see more marks along his friend's neck, "He got ye good!"

"He is insatiable and it is annoying," Soldier barked, taking a swig. He nodded his head down the hall and Demoman took the hint, pushing off the wall to walk with him. "How much longer will he be like this?"

"Aye, faun rut only lasts a few weeks. He should be right as rain in another week or so. In the meanwhile we just have tae abide and keep him happy."

"My ass hurts so much."

"Mine too, lad. Mine too." Demoman upended his drink and chugged the rest down, unleashing a resonant belch once his bottle had left his lips. He looked smugly satisfied with himself. "Ye ken I think ye've been the best sport o' this whole rut thing. After all, what's a ruttin' buck goin' tae be shaggin' harder'n a fine sturdy Doe?"

"You son of a--" Soldier hissed, slugging the chortling Scot in the arm. Though he, too, soon fell into laughter.

Demoman rubbed his sore bicep, grinning wide. "Deserved that, I did. Sorry, I had tae."

"Ah, I'd have done the same. So what's going on this weekend?"

"Mundy's got me today, spendin' time and all that."

"Going out?"  
"Nae, just some time together in me quarters, I think. Maybe sneak up to the roof once night falls. Watch the stars, all that."

"Never would've thought you two for being romantics."  
"Well that's 'cause ye ne'er dated me," the bomber chuckled. "Mundy is a surprise, though. He tends nae tae let anyone close enough. But he's a big gooey bairn if ye smooch him just right."

"I'll take your word for it. What about tomorrow?"

"I'm free. Ye got somethin' in mind?"

"Yes. I have an idea. And it's the kind of idea that everyone else would yell at me about. 'It's not safe! You could kill us all! What the hell made you come up with that cockamamie scheme?' Stuff like that."

"Does it involve fireworks?"

"When doesn't it?"

"Oh, I'm in." Demoman's grin was infectious, and soon Soldier wore it.

"Oh, that's a worrying look," Pyro mumbled, stepping out of the laundry room. Behind him the washer roared to life, rattling like it was making a very determined effort to shake every last one of its screws loose and leave scuff marks on the floor. It was an entirely likely result of using the machine, which fell into disrepair faster than anything on base. From the sheer workload it usually endured in a week, it was also the most decorated member of BLU, with a bunch of sympathy medals constructed by Soldier pinned to the machine's front with magnets.

"Hello, Pyro!" Soldier barked sunnily, his fatigue forgotten in the wake of making weekend plans.

"Mornin'," Demoman echoed, a bit more reservedly.

"You two seen Engie? I haven't seen him since breakfast."

"Ye look in his workshop?"

"Not yet, I just finished throwing our laundry in. Just figured I'd ask."

"Aye, I've nae seen him, so it's the likeliest place," the bomber confirmed.

"Okay, thanks!" Pyro replied with a nod of thanks, then trundled off down the hall.

Soldier looked to Demoman. "What laundry does Pyro have?"

"I dinnae ken. Footie pajamas?"

 

*

 

Warm, perfect lips. Of all of the things he would imagine, it was his lips that would always bring him back.

What were they like?

Were they thin? Full and pouty? Dark? Light? Were they always chapped and constantly being licked, or soft and smooth?

He was sure they were warm, perhaps even hot. He'd feel them in his mind, pressed to his own, parting to allow a wet tongue to superheat him, tangling with his own. They ghosted over his jaw, pressing kisses down the line of his neck and shoulder. They'd purse and suckle at his nipples. They'd smooch down the line of hair that led down his torso and wrap lovingly around his cock. They'd slip up and down his length, sheathing him in hot and wet, tongue undulating against him and driving him mad.

It was here, lost in his fantasy, that he'd try to imagine hands groping at him, pawing at his balls, teasing his ass, and come up with rubber gloves. That's where it fell apart, just as it always did.

Engineer slammed his living hand down on his workbench, rattling the assorted parts that sat atop it, making a few precious Australium-thread wires jump to the floor in terror. He growled heavily, sluggish, his reverie fading away and leaving him back in the cold normalcy he was desperately trying to cling to.

He looked up at the clock. It'd been ten minutes since he'd last looked. Ten minutes where he'd accomplished nothing. Ten minutes of staring at his blueprint and trying to translate it into the physical project he was fiddling away with, but accomplishing nothing but fading into yet another daydream.

It kept happening. For the past few nights he'd achieved nothing but a series of lewd thoughts, making him utterly unable to make any progress.

Last night didn't help any. He should've finished himself off after Pyro had hit the kill switch, but it just felt wrong. He knew Pyro liked to watch him masturbate, but when he'd been grinding against the rubber-clad form of his lover just moments prior, respectfully stopping once it had become a problem for the firebug, it just seemed wrong to finish the job. It was cruel and selfish to bring himself off after working Pyro up so much that he couldn't handle the contact anymore.

But God, had it felt good. Bodies undulating, soft breaths through filters, his tongue on that hot, creaking rubber...

With a grunt, he set down the screwdriver he still had clutched in one hand. This was ridiculous. He was too sexually frustrated to get any work done.

Engineer ran his artificial hand over his shaven head, stubble prickling against his false flesh, feeling just as real as anything. He idly pictured putting some chrome on that baby. It'd sure freak out the REDs in a fight. With a sigh, he pushed his stool back, climbing off of it to climb under the workbench and find his missing wires. They were worth more than his life, and were not obtained cheaply nor easily.

A whistle from behind made him nearly hit his head, jolting up.

Picking up his wires, Engineer turned to see Pyro in the doorway, leaning against the jamb with his arms crossed. He could practically feel the firebug's hidden grin.

"I like the view," Pyro teased through muffling filters. His shoulders shook with restrained laughter.

"I bet you do. How long you been there?"

"Long enough to see you get frustrated and start smacking the table. What's up?" the firebug asked, crossing to help his boyfriend out from under the table. A glance southward answered the question for him: the Texan was hard as tungsten inside his overalls.

"It ain't nothin'," Engineer mumbled, setting his wires back on the workbench.

"That's a whole lot more than nothing," Pyro hemmed, nodding to where he was looking. He ignored the mechanic's rapidly appearing blush. "You're all pent up, aren't you?"

"I'm fine."

"No you're not."

"Darlin', you don't gotta worry about--"

"Yes I do, because you keep working yourself up. With me, you won't get yourself off. And without me, clearly your hand isn't cutting it anymore. Though I don't know when you spare the time most days."

"I don't need it. A fella don't need sex, just wants it a lot. Well, exceptin' Scout."

"I don't understand why you don't just go see Scout. He certainly needs it right now."

And that started it again. "He's in heat, for God's sake, Py! How the hell am I supposed to not think of old huntin' trips with my Pa if there's so much deer to the kid that 'e goes into rut?"

Pyro sighed, sagging in his suit. Sure, he had a point. Scout's inhuman side certainly had a lot more... animalistic aspects than some would find comfortable. "He's still a person."

"I ain't fixin' to hang 'im on a wall! Just, it's a little much, is all. He ain't human."

"That really matters so much?"

"I dunno, Py, I ain't got a lot of experience with this whole monster thing. I mean, on the weirdness scale, he ain't _Soldier_ , but he sure ain't Heavy, neither."

Pyro chewed at his lip inside his mask, thinking a moment. To Engineer it was a blank, judging stare. But the firebug hemmed and hawed internally. It had been a while since they'd had this discussion, and it always went in circles. He'd talked about it with Spy, airing his frustrations and trying to get perspective from someone who could at least pass. From someone whose entire job and identity was getting to know people inside and out and use that information to his advantage. Sure, he was a master of manipulation, but it was a skill that made him uncannily able to dissect exactly what was bothering someone. It made him a terrifyingly able therapist, as it were.

It also made him damn good at his job, an adaptable troubleshooter wrapped in an expensive suit and a mellower stink of smoke than one would expect from someone who never seemed to be seen without a cigarette between his lips.

The last time they'd spoken, Spy had offered his personal form of prodding at the Texan's comfort levels. Pyro had avoided taking him up on it, determined to work up the nerve to confront things himself. He could do this. He needed Engineer, just as Engineer needed him. Love didn't care about such petty things as species. He could do this. It was just like Soldier said. He'd never know what he could have if he didn’t try. He had to. This was it. He could do this.  _He could do thi--_

"Spy."

On reflex, Engineer snatched up a tool: this time, his soldering iron. "Here?"

Pyro realized his mistake and shook his head. "N-no, not here! I mean--put that down!" The Texan lowered his improvised weapon and looked to his lover to continue. "I...was talking to Spy a while ago. And he said that if you needed an... outlet, to send you to him."

"To Spy?"

"Yeah, he's up for whatever. Just doesn't chase people down like Scout. Plus he's heard that you eat ass." The firebug couldn't help a chuckle on the end, unwinding a little.

"Word of that tends to get 'round," Engineer mused with a rueful shake of his head. "I just... I dunno, darlin'."

"Engie," Pyro sighed, wrapping his arms around his boyfriend's waist. He was so warm, even through the thick, asbestos-lined suit, and the shorter man relaxed into him, wrapping strong arms around his shoulders. "I love you. And I want you to be happy."

"I am happy," Engineer replied, nosing in against the side of Pyro's gasmask and planting a firm kiss against his cheekbone, sure to make him feel it through the rubber. "You make me happy."

His voice was gentle, pure sincerity, and it made Pyro melt a little, just as it always did. "But I want you to be comfortable, too."

"Pyro, you know I'd never ask you to make yourself uncomfortable for my sake. I respect you too much. But I don't know how much I like the idea of always goin' to other people. It's too much like cheatin'."

"It's not cheating if you have my permission."

"I know. I just--" the Texan sighed. It was an arrangement that worked well enough, sure, but he always felt like a selfish asshole. Even if it had been Pyro's idea.

Pyro held Engineer close. He winced, the coward who couldn't say anything. He thought of Soldier and Tavish, _his_ Tavish, the bomber in RED who clearly still held his heart, even though know it was in the clenched fist of hatred, of love betrayed and destroyed. He thought of the dullahan's sullen voice as he told Pyro his story of cowardice and fear, and a chill crept through him. He was worse, because he knew better, but still couldn't bring himself to do it.

He wished he could at least give Engineer some modicum of physical satisfaction, even sex wasn't the full extent of it. Warm bodies curled together, skin to skin in the night, bare hands, fingers intertwined, lips pressed together; they both craved it so deeply. But e ven rubbing through the suit had threatened to expose him, so Pyro had to deny himself. For Engineer's sake.

For his fear's sake.

Taking hold of Engineer's hand, his mechanical one, Pyro brought it up to the front filter of his mask, tapping his knuckles against it, like a kiss. "Don't waste that talented mouth," he teased.

Engineer chuckled at that. "You ain't gonna let this go, are you?"

"Not a chance. I hate to see you like this."

Swiping a hand over his stubbly head, Engineer sighed. "Alright. Sure."

"Great!" Pyro said, squeezing him tight. If nothing else, it was a way for the Texan to unwind, so he wouldn't get himself so frustrated. That was worth the effort alone, though Pyro hoped Spy knew what he was doing.


	3. Chapter 3

"Und so, it should be a simple matter, I believe, to enhance characteristics already written into a person's genetic code. Rather than a complete transformation, it would instead take information already part of a person und bring it out, embellishing upon it. A less complex spell for a similar effect. It would be simpler than, say, a transmutation to make him into, say, a garuda. Since he is not at all garuda, but he is partially Jotun," Medic rambled, gesticulating as he spoke.

Spy strode beside him, calmly smoking as he listened to the doctor's rambling. His eyes were ahead of him as he watched their steps for the both of them, lest Medic miss the door to his infirmary, wrapped up in his conversation. "It sounds as though you are on the right track," he mused with a small smile. "It is easier to reshape than to remake."

"Exactly!"

"But why do you have such an interest in your dear lover's lineage?"

"It's interesting! Had Sniper not told me, I might never have known that Heavy wasn't entirely human! He doesn't volunteer the information unless asked, und I never would have thought to ask! Und the idea of Heavy being half-giant is so interesting! It gifts him a size, a power, a majesty rarely seen in humankind! Seeing what he would look like entirely giant, doubly so!"

"You do not worry that is making him something he is not?"

"I do not wish to change him. I love him as he is, und he is perfect. I just wonder what it would be like! Which is why I am looking into temporary measures for this project. It could be an interesting diversion. Imagine the battlefield applications of a sudden increase in size and strength!"

"You are imagining the bedroom applications of that size and strength; don't lie."

Medic chuckled, a light prickle of pink rising to his cheeks. "I would be lying if I denied that."

"Yes, because you're known for your unflagging honesty, Docteur," Spy drawled with a chuckle. "I do believe this is your stop, yes?" He came to a stop in front of the infirmary doors, indicating them with a flourish.

"Ah, so it is. I'll likely be here for the remainder of the evening, if anybody is looking for me."

"Then I'll see you in the morning, Docteur. Good night."

Medic opened his mouth to speak, but perked up as he saw Engineer approach from behind. "Hallo, Engie!"

Spy turned and greeted the Texan in turn.

"Mornin', fellas. Hey, uh, Spy. Any chance you're free for a little chat?" Engineer asked, tipping his hardhat off and tucking it under one arm. He was a bit flushed, and even with his goggles on, it was obvious he was making an effort to not quite make eye contact.

Medic gave Spy a look, raising his eyebrow.

"My appointment book is open," came the rogue's reply, ignoring the look the doctor gave him. "Shall we retire to my smoking room? I've just procured some scotch a few years older than Scout, and _would_ enjoy company in opening it up."

"That sounds right nice," Engineer replied, the stiffness in his spine easing a bit.

"Then I shall leave you here," Medic announced with a flourish, slipping into the infirmary. "Bis später! Viel Spaß!"

" _Danke_ ," Spy drawled with a roll of his eyes.

"See ya, Doc!" the Texan called after him, then turned his attention to Spy, nodding down the hall. "Shall we?"  
"Of course."

The walk to Spy's smoking room, a spare storage area that the rogue had fitted for his own needs to dwell away from his quarters, was short, yet quiet. Silence hung between the two mercenaries, thick and weighty. When at last the door closed behind them, Spy turned, crossing his arms as he regarded the stout mechanic in his personal space. "So, how can I help you, my dear labourer?"

"Look, Spy, you know how I am. I don't tiptoe around, and I don't engage in the whole subterfuge thing. So forgive the bluntness, but I'm gonna lay it out. Pyro said you wanted to have sex with me," Engineer explained, tugging his goggles up onto his forehead.

Spy smirked. His gaze lingered on the Texan's eyes, their electric azure practically burning into his own. It was a shame he wore those goggles so often. He had gorgeous eyes. "You certainly don't play around," the rogue teased, leaning over to lock his door. "Come, let's share that drink first." He crossed to his fireplace, leaving Engineer standing there, a bit frustrated with the Frenchman's lack of an actual answer. "Have a seat."

He did as he was bid, hanging his hardhat on the hatstand and perching on the smallish, blue leather couch in the corner. He looked about the room, admiring the fine woodwork and decor. Paintings adorned the walls, each with its own special touch that told one it belonged to Spy, and recessed bookshelves were lined with old, leather-bound volumes of fiction from all over the world. Even the lighting fixtures were custom, and he remembered well the day that Spy had come to him to ask what his expertise with carpentry was, and what his rates were. It taken a long time to source the woods and materials Spy wanted, but looking at it now, Engineer was quite satisfied with his handiwork, and what the rogue had done with it. The air conditioning combined with fireplace may have been a bit extravagant and a bit wasteful, but he couldn't deny that it leant the room a certain air. One that his aloof teammate always made an effort to cultivate.

Spy turned on the gas fire, flicking his cigarette into the blaze, then busied himself with his liquor cabinet. He poured himself and Engineer each a crystal glass of whisky from a rather fancy decanter, then opened a small cruet of water and dropped a small splash in each cup. Picking both glasses up, he turned to see the Texan petting idly at the blue leather upon which he sat, feeling it with his false hand as something to distract himself with. "Here," he said, offering him a glass.

Engineer took it gratefully, sliding over in his seat once he realized that Spy intended to sit beside him. "Appreciate," he replied, raising his glass in toast. "Cheers."

"Santé," Spy replied, clinking their glasses before downing a sip alongside his friend.

It burned just right, blunted by the water to allow access to its flavours. Smoke and honey danced over the tongue, with a nutty hint on the back-end. It was rich, and mineral, and the woodiness was balanced perfectly. Both men nodded in appreciation of the drink, and settled in to sip at their leisure.

"So, you've come to me for matters carnal, have you?" Spy asked, his eyes fixed on the swirling whisky in his glass rather than his companion. "What's brought this on?"

"Like I said. Pyro told me you wanted to."

"I didn't think you were looking to do such things anymore, if Scout's word is to be believed."

"Nah, it's just him. The whole... faun thing," the Texan sighed, slouching a bit. He'd figured he was going to have to hear about this, first. Especially now that Scout was in the state he was in. Why the hell couldn't the team just leave well enough alone?

"Because he's not a human, that suddenly makes a willing, attractive partner unpalatable?"

"Attractive?"

"I've bedded him enough times. Let us not deny he has his charms, boorish as they may be, Labourer." Spy shot him a sidelong smirk, eyebrow raised, teeth peeking just barely from between his lips in a carefully aggressive show of jocularity.

"S'pose you're right, there. The monster thing is all still pretty new to me. Didn't encounter much of that back in Bee Cave, or on the rigs. Mostly mundane back that-a-way."

"Mmm," Spy acknowledged, neither agreeing nor disagreeing, and took another sip of his whisky. "So it is unfamiliarity that has you so wrought out?"

"I dunno. I guess a little. Feelin' out of my depth more 'n more, especially since it feels like I been lied to, almost."

"Well, you were, via omission. Demoman certainly did not detail his lineage, nor Soldier his in-depth history. Heavy, however, freely offers it if asked. One just has to know to do so, as Heavy rarely volunteers information on his family. You know how he is, with his sisters."

"Once he trusts you and gets talkin', though. I know their middle names and favourite foods," Engineer chuckled.

"Indeed. However, back to the subject at hand, you should be no stranger to deception, my friend. After all, you and I have worked together for almost two years now," Spy grinned fully, a quiet snicker shaking him as he took a sip of his scotch.

"Got a point there."

"So Pyro mentioned me, now that you're too sexually frustrated for your own good, is that it?"

"In essence."

"Well, then. What do you expect of me? Thus far you've not done very well at sweeping me off of my feet."

"I ain't tryin' to romance you, Spy. I'm tryin' to fuck you," Engineer smirked, his drawl gaining a threatening edge to it as he leaned back on the couch. A gentle verbal spar with the Frenchman was always an amusing experience when enjoyed at leisure.

Spy acted his part, rearing back, shielding his mouth and gasping in scandal. "So improper!" he laughed, setting his glass on the table beside the couch.

"Very sordid," Engineer agreed with a crooked grin. "So what's your answer, Spy? Am I barkin' up the wrong tree or are you of a mind to have a little fun with me?"

The rogue took his friend's glass, setting it beside his own, and carefully kicked off his shoes, tucking them under the couch. He then turned, slinging one foot up onto the couch and facing Engineer, his legs spread, a grin playing at his thin lips. "One condition, phrased crassly: I want you to eat me out."

"That so?" The Texan grinned wide, tugging his goggles free to toss aside. He pitched up onto his knees on the couch and pressed himself atop Spy, hands slipping inside his jacket to grope at his slim sides, bringing their faces close. "I guess you'd better get that scrawny ass in the air then, shouldn't you?" His voice was low, husky, threatening, and it sent a chill through the rogue, gloved hands pawing at the shorter man's shoulders.

Stubble-rimmed lips crashed, tongues seeking one another's heat as both men grunted, their bodies rocking together. Their hands busied themselves, unbuckling overalls, unbuttoning jackets, waistcoats, and shirts, shucking fabric until torsos lay clad only in undershirts, overshirts, and offending layers hanging open on their shoulders. They parted, breaths already heavy and ragged when they reached the impasse of their clothing refusing to cooperate further. It was Spy who ventured first, tugging his gloves off to get a better feel, running his hands up under Engineer's undershirt to tease through the blond hair of his chest and belly. He was a fuzzy little bear of a man, with a soft gut and heavy, thick muscle wrapped tightly around a broad ribcage. One delicate hand snuck up over his shoulder, teasing at his brawny build and nudging his overshirt off to tangle around his arms.

Engineer took the hint, sitting up on his knees to shed his shirt. He kept his eyes on Spy, relishing the sight of the slim scoundrel doing the same, and both men tugged off their undershirts, exposing bare skin to one another.

Spy was thin, but there was more definition in his wiry muscle than one would expect. Engineer had seen him in the showers enough times to know this, but up close, his hands running over sinewy shapes coated in a light dusting of dark hair, a small tuft at the centre of his chest, the Texan was gaining a new appreciation for how attractive Spy was. Whether the Frenchman was actually the playboy he billed himself as or not, it wasn't hard to believe he might be, with a body like his. It only got better as his hands busied themselves with unbuckling his belt and opening his fly, the rogue already visibly straining against his fitted trousers.

"Ain't you eager?" Engineer teased, petting at Spy's shoulder and side, enjoying his warm skin. He leaned in, capturing Spy in another rough, hungry kiss that had the taller man sighing into his touch and grinding against him, breathless. The Texan's natural hand found its way up the back of the rogue's head, petting at him before curling into a fist in the fabric of his friend's balaclava. He took tight hold, tugging Spy's lips away from his, just far enough to speak. "So, just how much you lookin' to take off?"

"How much would you have me remove?"

"I want you naked and screamin' my name," Engineer growled, leaning in to bite at the rogue's neck.

Spy whimpered, shivering with arousal. Those teeth hammered spikes of pain and pleasure into him. He knew the tinkerer was an aggressive man. His mean-streak on the field and stern demeanor when breaking up fights or corralling their more boisterous teammates' behaviour spoke well to that. But seeing that simmering threat in this context brought a shiver to the Frenchman. The shorter man's breath was almost a growl beneath his ear, hot on his skin. This could be very, very nice. "Naked is what you get, then. If you'll let me."

That was all it took, and Engineer sat back, still grasping Spy by the mask. He tugged, and the taller man didn't move to stop it as his balaclava slipped free of his head, revealing his bare face and hair. Instead, the Frenchman simply freed his hands to comb fingers through his mussed hair, settling his black locks into a semblance of something no longer resembling hat hair but instead a purposely mussed, wind-swept look that seemed to settle into perfect dishevelment by sheer force of will. He bore grey patches at his temples and a strip receding from his widow's peak, and wore it with distinction. The silver streaks and tousled hair only served to make the arousal-flushed scoundrel all the more attractive.

It was a pity he wore the mask so much off-hours, Engineer thought. He was terribly handsome without it. "Well shucks, it's rare I get to see this outside the showers," he chuckled, rubbing a thumb along Spy's stubbly jaw.

"Yes, well, if I were to walk around maskless too often, I may end up ruining a few relationships around the base with my chiseled good looks," the rogue demurred with a chuckle.

"Or ending up sandwiched in a few of them." The Texan laughed, climbing off of Spy to allow him to undress. He did the same, shedding his overalls and boots. His boxer briefs, a pair bearing stylized pictures of kittens playing, came off last. In reply to the curious look his teammate gave him, he replied, "Gift from Pyro. Can't say as they ain't cute."

"He has impeccable taste," Spy laughed, shucking his trousers, sock garters, socks, and the lycra undershorts that kept him contained.

He couldn't resist a moment's stare at the sight before him. Engineer had always been a feast for the eyes, but the rather massive erection he sported was more than a little intimidating. Especially when Spy made the mistake of comparing himself, reasonably small in contrast. He had never been an excessively endowed man, calling himself comfortably average, but faced with a man the size of Engineer, he felt a bit dwarfed. He licked his lips. "On my knees?"

"On your knees."

Spy did as he was told, climbing back onto the couch. He leaned over the armrest, pressing his chest into it as he knelt up to present himself. He folded his arms in front of him and laid his head atop them, his breaths short with anticipation. He felt a bit silly, so excited, but after all of Scout's crooning about Engineer's mouth, how could he not be? He wiggled his bottom, presented for the stout Texan's dining delight.

"Ain't you a tasty treat?" Engineer drawled, climbing back onto the couch behind him, settling in and taking his time to let Spy wait and work himself up. He took in the view all the while.

Spy's ass was firm, toned, and his hole was a tight, pink pucker with darker skin around it that ran down his taint and reddened slightly around his balls, which hung high between his thighs, tight against his body in the relatively coolness of the smoking room. He quivered in anticipation, trying to keep his breath steady, but when the shorter man took hold of one hip in his strong grip, he gasped. It was difficult to resist the urge to beg, growing ever more tense, more excited as a second hand grasped him, thumbs spreading his cheeks to allow better access.

When Engineer's tongue flicked against him, he hissed, followed by a long, winding whine as he ran a trail from balls to ass with the hot, wet flat of that wonderful organ. It became an unashamed groan when tongue met hole, tracing it in circles, first with the tip, then pressing flat again to lave in swirls against his entrance.

Spy gripped the armrest, his chin digging into the leather as he fought his own trembling muscles. The moist tease of the Texan's skilled licking sent ripples through him, electric prickles that made his muscles flutter and fail. Firm hands gripped his clenching ass cheeks, parting them, holding them apart and groping all the while as stubble scratched between them, a mild discomfort that was all the more pleasant for grounding Spy amidst the sudden and delirious pleasures that assaulted him.

Engineer practically dove into his work, lashing his tongue against Spy's hole, circling and teasing, sending wriggling arcs of heat through him. He slurped loudly, pressing a kiss to the puckered flesh, then began a trek downward, back to his balls. He took Spy's sack into his mouth, carefully, gently laving his tongue over them, a low moan humming through the sensitive flesh as he pulled back to lip at the loose skin of his scrotum. He let a finger gently quest upward to rub slow circles against the handsome scoundrel's hole as he dragged more groans from him with short, steady laps at his balls.

"Engineer..." Spy crooned, wriggling in his grasp, the pressure in his groin, the hungry throb of his untouched cock growing stronger with each lick, each swirl of his finger. Quivering, meandering streaks of ecstatic energy hummed out along Spy's legs and spine. "Please."

A soft, wheezy chuckle found that tongue returning to his ass, flat laps assailing him, making him lift his hips to follow each stroke, a soft whine escaping each time he lost contact for even a moment. Spy moaned low, into the couch, his eyes squeezed tight as he let the ripples of heat and hunger tear through him, unable to stop himself from arching and shivering under Engineer's care.

Long moments of repeated slurps and licks reduced the rogue into putty, and when at last that hot tongue breached his entrance, poking slowly, carefully inside, Spy yowled. It was a force of effort to push into his tight hole, opening him to the Texan's slick organ, and he jolted with each probe inward, hissing and groaning his approval. Engineer saw him rewarded, soothing him with the rising heat of long, luxurious laps between each ingress.

It was madness. Spy dug his face into his arms, muffling his voice that muscled and shoved its way out of his mouth, undeterred by teeth or will, or even common decency. It was a blessed thing that the Frenchman's smoking room was flanked on either side by storage, lest he disturb others with his whimpers and whines.

Repetition soon rewarded them both as the rogue relaxed under Engineer's ministrations, those strong hands spreading his ass, that perfect mouth working magic over sensitive skin and muscle. They soon found it an easier task, the shorter man's tongue pressing inward, penetrating him, licking his insides and drawing shameless noises from Spy. He writhed, he clawed, he arched and keened, mind clouded with lust, driving out any thought but how fucking amazing the hot, wet thrust of that perfect tongue felt.

Engineer was fucking him with it now. Heat spiraled through him, a flame following nerve trails and fanning outward to sear through his whole being, yet centered always on the wet, limber tongue that pushed between his cheeks. Each ingress made him feel like the fault of an earthquake, unsteady earth, rocking, shaking, forced into motion. Sensation ebbed through him not in straight lines but tight meanders, vibrating the muscle in his legs to mush and forcing his shoulders to tremble. The word "wobbly" came to mind, quickly shut-out by the all-consuming pleasure.

Engineer's hands worked skillfully, sliding along his cooling flesh, caressing muscle, groping cock and balls, and squeezing that lovely, lovely ass he licked with such enthusiasm. He pulled back a moment to catch his breath, again replacing his tongue with a finger and rubbing gently at Spy's hole. "How you doin'?"

Spy mumbled and sputtered, unable to construct any coherent response in any language his partner could comprehend.

"Good," the mechanic chuckled, pushing a finger tip inside to hear the taller man whine.

"Please."

"Please, what?"

"Please, don't stop." Spy couldn't articulate it, couldn't bring forth any more that wasn't just a useless warble, but he was sure that if Engineer stopped, he might die. He could barely conceive of existing, let alone to do it without that blessed tongue on his heated flesh.

There was a chuckle from behind the rogue, wheezy and warm, and with that, Engineer returned to his work, probing into Spy and opening him, only to recede, lap at him, and repeat. It forced moans bordering on beautiful anguish out of the slim rogue, and he was shaking almost immediately.

"Kuso!" he hissed, choking on his curse.

Engineer had to admit, he loved it as well, making the handsome mercenary loose those lovely sounds, reducing him to a jumbled mix of languages and half-spoken nonsense. His own cock ached, throbbed, precome leaking from the head as he tasted and teased the other man. He wanted to fuck him so badly, to bury himself in that slim, well-licked ass and stretch it open around him. He imagined Spy would scrabble against the leather couch and cling desperately. He would moan like a whore and rock with every thrust with perfect, practiced skill. He would be so tight, so nice, and welcome his cock like it belonged there. His skin was so soft and warm, pleasant to the touch, and felt so good against his tongue. He growled, licking as deep as he could, relishing the desperate whines of a man coming undone. He wondered how much longer it would be until the taller man finally touched himself, or whether Spy wanted that from Engineer as well. Either way, he was prepared to tongue-fuck his ass until the rogue cried uncle or came, whichever happened first.

"Please, please, onegai," Spy mumbled, his throat dry, his voice growing hoarse. His grip on the couch had been reduced to boneless flopping in the face of overwhelming ecstasy.

Engineer closed his eyes and buried his face in Spy's ass, moaning low into his skin as he licked deep into him. Saliva ran down the taller man's taint, quickly lapped up only to be replaced by more as the stout mechanic made his meal of the increasingly limp and pliant mercenary, his soft sounds desperate and undone. Then, he felt something soft and furry touch the bridge of his nose and forehead.

With a yelp, Engineer pulled back, ignoring the surprised whine of the other man as his eyes and jaw fell open wide. Above and in front of him was a blur of orange and white fur, and when he realized exactly what he was seeing, he still wasn't sure he was right.

Spy had a tail. No. Spy had three tails, all poking out from the base of his spine. They were long, fluffy, and ginger, tipped with white, and swished about lazily in the haze of their owner's ardor. Fox tails.

"Wh-wh--"

"What? What is wrong?" Spy barked, craning around to see. His eyes, too, went wide at the sight of his tails. How could he have let himself lose control of them? "Oh, merde."

"Spy what the--? You're--?"

"Calm down, Labourer," the rogue grumbled, climbing out of his position on unsteady legs, ignoring the painful ache of his still-insistent erection. "They are just tails. Not antlers, or anything else that should give you the chills."

"What in the hell are you?!" Engineer demanded, his face red. He dragged his forearm across his mouth, wiping away the spit that covered his lower face as best he could.  
Spy rolled his eyes at that, standing to snatch his jacket from the floor and fish about in the pocket. He withdrew his cigarette case and lighter and quickly lit himself a smoke. He let the silence sit a moment, taking a long drag before leveling his gaze on his coworker. "I am a fox, of course."

Engineer stared blankly at him, knowing there had to be more, and being sure to avoid opening his mouth and making more of a fool of himself. This was ridiculous. No wonder Spy had been so curious about him and monsters. He wished he'd never come here.

"A kitsune, if you wish for specificity. And egregious Japanese. The word means fox, however vague and misleading that may be," the rogue finally finished, with a note of annoyance at the nomenclature. "I am not a fox. Well, I certainly look like one in my natural form. I am a youkai. The word usually translates as, 'demon', but is more akin to the fae if we're splitting hairs. I'm not mortal, nor animal, and I'm a shape-shifter. One who can assume human forms, ostensibly for subterfuge, trickery, and amongst the more...crass of my fellows, kidnapping, infanticide, and cannibalism. Such barbarism." He took another drag, collecting himself into as cool and controlled a stance as he could, red-faced, naked, erect, and with three tails extending from the crest of his bottom. They were long, fluffy, and trailed to the floor. He curled them about his legs in a clockwise direction, making them look like one immense tail, rather than three limbs. The illusion added a surreal layer of sophistication to Spy's affectation, like the swirling skirt of a fancy gown. "Does that satisfy your curiosity?"

"You tricked me. You're not human, either," Engineer breathed, still somewhat dumbfounded.

"And you are quite observant." And that had done it. What walls the rogue had let him inside had now been rebuilt closer, locking him on the outside. The sarcasm and superiority had come back in a sudden wave. "So are you going to begin complaining to me about hunting trips or some such nonsense as well? Would you prefer I go see Scout so we can frolic in the forest together?"

Engineer bristled. "Why didn't you tell me?"  
"Was it your business to know?"

"If I was goin' to have sex with you--"

"I haven't told you a lot of things. I haven't told you my name, Dell Conagher. I haven't told you my actual age, nor have I told you many of the other things I guard about my identity. You had no compunctions about sex with me until presented visual proof of my lack of humanity. Until then, I was simply a devastatingly handsome man whose anus you were content to tongue-bathe."

"Because I didn't know! It's duplicitous as hell to not reveal something like a difference in _species_ before sleepin' with a fella!"

"Konnichi wa! Ore wa _Spy_ da zo! I do not volunteer information unless it is relevant! Why is my species relevant? What difference does it truly make? I was never human. I am still Spy, am I not?" The question hung in the air, loaded, ready to fire. When he received no reply, the kitsune took another drag and exhaled, revving himself up. "That would be like having to reveal that my grandmother was Korean. It is immaterial. Or do you have problems with people different from yourself?"

"Now see here, Spy! You're treadin' dangerous waters implyin' what I'm inferrin', son." Engineer stood, drawing himself up with a low, sharp edge to his tone. He let his voice fry on his last word, conveying all of the threat he needed. "I ain't gonna take your insults."  
"You will take them, and you will accept them, because as far as I have been able to deduce, you are certainly proving them true!" Spy roared, seeming to tower over the mechanic with force and fury. It widened Engineer's eyes, startled by the outburst. "You have been nothing but a child these past few months, suddenly so wrapped up in the concept of humanity, and your pathetically narrow comfort level! You have been working alongside monsters for years without knowing it, and it never once was an issue. Suddenly the twink you're fucking on the side grows hooves and you treat him like he's an animal!"

"How in the _hell_ have I been treatin' him like an animal? Just because I don't wanna fuck him? I don't wanna fuck a lot of people! Ain't I allowed to have preferences? Why is it suddenly so important that I sleep with him now that he's a faun?!" Lost, frustrated, Engineer clenched his fists.

Spy took a breath, calming himself. He was the one getting out of hand, now. He took another drag and exhaled through his nose, taking a moment to compose his demeanor back into comfortable distance. "It's the sudden, firm way you've gone about it, perhaps. That, plus the fact that Scout's loudly lamented it to everyone else, whether they want to hear it or not."

"He complains _that much_ about it?"

"He complains about everything, let us both be honest for once."

The soft laugh they shared seemed to disperse some of the tension that hung in the air.

"But yes, he's talked about it. You know he thinks he's done something wrong? Like he scared you away? Or that you're disgusted by him?"

"Disgusted?"  
"The very...how to put it? Uncomfortable, comparative way you've gone about turning him down has made an impression. You remember how he was when he first changed. It was forced upon him by a duplicitous lover."

"Sounds familiar."

"Do not compare me. I did not change the very fabric of your being because of a childish crush and an immense faerie ego that precluded me from asking permission. It was my sincere hope I wouldn't reveal myself, and I failed. In fact, I had hoped to speak to you at length in the comfortable honestly of afterglow, not in a confrontation manifest coitus interruptus."

"The tails were an accident?"

"Very much so. I can hold a form without effort. This one in particular, practiced as I am at it. But my tails, such as most of my kind's, have always seemed determined to undo me," Spy chuckled. "Causing me to lose control is no small feat. I've spent a few thousand years honing that skill. I can maintain my shape in the heat of battle. I maintain my shape when I die. You managed to undo me with a rimjob. Probably the best I've had in those few thousand years. If that isn't an incredible compliment, I don't know what is." He swished his tails a bit, running a hand through his fur. "Shall we sit?"

Engineer looked back at the couch, then to the naked kitsune before him and sighed. Spy was going to make him have this talk even if it had to be while getting dressed. At least it wasn't hot enough in the room to stick to the leather. "Sure."

Spy smiled, sharp canines now marring his perfect, mostly false, white teeth. He took a seat with a flourish of tails, carefully tucking them to one side and crossing his legs at the knee, almost daintily. Once joined by the stout Texan, the rogue began again. "Now, if you will indulge me: as I was saying, Scout had it forced on him. He did not adjust well. You remember that week when he did nothing while we were on vacation. He was miserable, dysphoric, and reclusive. You and Sniper fetishizing his new features made him feel good about himself. Like perhaps he wasn't all wrong after all. He might get used to it.

"And he has, but not without a few slips, here and there. He'd never admit as much, but you can see it when you know how to look. The comments you've made. Comparisons between his cervine traits and actual deer, cut to the quick. Yes, he has similarities. Unfortunately for supernatural creatures, this does happen. While deer are simply deer and humans are simply humans, but most creatures of myth are more than this. Aside from our magical bent, many of us combine features. I am fox and human, as whole I am youkai. He is deer and human, as a whole he is fae. Medic is bird and man, combined into spirit. We have traits of both, but are in reality neither, but something else entirely. You are expressing associations you've made in your mind, but you tear him down in doing it. He is a man, Labourer. A cervine one, certainly. A faerie, definitely. But he is not an animal. In fact, you are more animal than he is, being a primate. But comparing him to one is damaging both for him, and yourself." Spy took a long drag, smoke leaving his mouth as he spoke, "The both of you, and also for Pyro."

"Pyro?"

"How many of those limbs of yours are artificial?" Spy abruptly swerved topics with a raised eyebrow.

"My limbs?" Engineer floundered, expecting a response that didn't come, his entire train of thought derailed. "My left arm--"

"All but one of your limbs, Labourer. The rest are mechanical. Cybernetic, I think is the most recent technobabble? And that is just what we see. What I, personally, am aware of, without having dug into medical records. How much of you is flesh and blood, as your God made you? You are as human, at this point, as Scout and Medic. You are less human in overall percentages than Heavy."

"You've got a point there," the Texan sighed. "Honestly, I don't even think it's about bein' human at all. All of this."

"Oh?"

"When Scout first changed, you're right, me and Sniper took him for a test-drive, and it was just dandy."

"Just dandy? Remind me never to have you ghostwrite the pornographic section of my memoirs."

Engineer cleared his throat and sent a glare at the kitsune beside him and continued, "What I mean is that I didn't have any problems. Didn't bother me. Sniper took the back end and I had his mouth. I'll admit, the antlers make great handles, and Scout got a hell of a kick out of it."

"Mm, that they do."

"And that's the thing. Most of the time afterward it was him blowin' me. Maybe sometimes we'd put a toy in him or somethin', to get him off while he went down. And it was fine. Antlers and all. It didn't start bothering me until after we came back."

"When did you first notice the discomfort?" Spy asked, snatching up his scotch for another sip. This was getting interesting.

"I dunno. Maybe..." The Texan snapped his fingers. "The first time I fucked him!"

"Not his mouth?"

"Exactly. It was missionary. Legs didn't bother me none, other than bein' a little weird. Wasn't a bad weird, especially, though the tail waggin' between my knees was a little much."

"That _does_ take getting used to, with how much he does it."

"Yeah, but here's the thing: I think that was the first time I did anything with him after his transformation where he didn't have _something_ in his mouth. Dick, gag, nothin'."

Spy regarded Engineer for a moment before it clicked. Of course. "His bellows."

"At first it was the usual runnin' his damn mouth before he was just moanin'. But the harder it got, the less human he sounded. The more it was barkin' and bellowin'. It was after that time I started to stop feelin' it. We finished, but the next time, I didn't. I couldn't. Shoot, I didn't even realize why I started thinkin' like that. Picturin' hunts from when I was a boy, baggin' stags and drivin' home with 'em in the bed of the truck to take to the butcher. Then maybe the taxidermist. But it was just like the calls you'd hear the harts bellow in rut season, and the calls we made to lure 'em. Soon I couldn't deal with it at all. I stopped fuckin' him. A few blowjobs after that, but the mental image was there. I'd see his rack and it'd be like I was linin' up sights."

"Except you were firing a very different sort of gun," Spy snorted. The look he got from his friend froze him, and he quieted down, a little ashamed of his poorly timed terrible joke. He cleared his throat. "So it's Scout's cervine sounds that did it, then? You think that's where the association lies?"

"I'm sure of it." The shorter man nodded, his voice soft, understanding. How had he not bothered to take the time to dissect this on his own? "I mean, aside from the surprise and, you know, betrayal of it all--"

Spy rolled his eyes.

"--regardless of how valid it is," Engineer added, "I ain't freaked out by you or anythin'. Honestly it ain't unattractive."

"Thank you," the kitsune smiled. "You know, it is not an issue to have preferences in a partner's appearance."

"I know that! I just—maybe it wasn't so much preference as it was me bein' a damn idiot and workin' myself up. I got a preference for Scout not makin' those damn noises is for sure, but his appearance don't bother me none. Like I said, the antlers're handy."

"Scout certainly knows about things, 'handy'."

"Must you?" Engineer growled. Spy and his fucking puns...

"Gomen," Spy teased, throwing up his hands in mock surrender. "So it is really only Scout?"

"Honestly? Yeah. The Doc don't bother me none. Still as good a looker as ever. Heavy's never not been handsome. Demo I'm not too sure on. Never seen him do the whole wolf-man thing, but I think that might be a step too far in the direction Scout leans, if what little I've heard from Sniper is true. I ain't gonna fault him for likin' what he likes, though. I mean, I probably wouldn't go after Bigfoot either, but there you go."

"Bigfoot? Oh, I need to hear this story."

"You really don't wanna. It was far from pretty as possible. Especially when we had to drive back out to find his van after he respawned."

"Oh. ...o _h!_ " The kitsune's eyes widened.

"Yeah."

"So what about Soldier?"

"Aw come on, Spy, he ain't got no head! I mean he's Soldier, so he wasn't using it much to begin with--" That earned a snort of laughter. "--but long as he keeps the one he's got fresh and anchored I guess wouldn't kick him outta bed. Just have to not think about him bein' technically dead. That's a little too anatomically awkward for me, yet. You gotta let me ease into this stuff."

"Fair enough," Spy laughed. "I'm glad to hear it's not nearly the dire situation we'd all feared. Just a matter of your stubbornness combined with the need to _drag_ things out of you."

"Would you really call it dire? Seems a little strong," Engineer pouted.

"Pyro would."

"Alright, you brought him up before and dodged it. Not again. What do you mean?"

"I assumed you'd be able to take a hint, my dear Labourer. After all, you have how many PhDs? Eleven? That's quite a lot of knowledge to be able to miss out on glaring intimations."

"Hard science, Spy. Ain't no degrees in deciphering double-talk."

"Outside of the liberal arts, no." The kitsune shrugged and finished his cigarette, stubbing it out in the ashtray beside the couch. "Alright. This whole...thing with Scout? The bull-headed refusal to discuss things? The, 'a man's business is his own,' dreck? The references to mounting the poor boy on your wall? Fortunate that it's done with, but it's all more than a little terrifying to the man you profess to love. You've inadvertently driven him so deep into his shell—or suit, as the case may be—that rather than risk your disapproval, or worse, disgust, he continues to deprive the both of you of something that you clearly both desire."

"Spy, if you'd like to make some sense, I'd appreciate it."

"Do you really, truly think he is human? Has the suspicion never crept up that perhaps the reason he doesn't leave his suit is because he's overtly mythological, has difficulties hiding it, and scares away anyone he seeks to grow close to? That perhaps he was hoping to discover you were different, that he might show you himself in full someday? We have all seen him do magic. He shoots fire with his hands to tease the enemy, for the love of the kami. You never found anything strange about anything he did?"  
"He told me he was uncomfortable leavin' the suit. I didn't want to pry. I love him and respect him, and his decisions and needs."

"If you love him, then why have you not noticed how listless he's become? It began when you confirmed, at least in his eyes, that him being anything but human would be an obstacle, once Scout became an untenable situation for you."

"I noticed it, but I didn't realize that was why. Though I guess that was around the same time, kinda. I thought it had to do with my prostheses. The amputations."

"There is an issue there, as well, but I shall leave the two of you to hash that out. That's a simple matter of compromise," Spy dismissed, waving a hand. "But no, that is not the only issue. In his mind, and honestly, in the minds of the rest of us, your rejection of Scout on the grounds of his monstrous mein was a rejection of the supernatural in full. Pyro is convinced you would never accept him as he is, so instead he's determined to stay in his suit and send you to other lovers, denying himself rather than lose you entirely."

"He told you this?"

"Not in so many extravagant words, but yes."  
"You know what he is?"

"I have not seen him, but he has told me. Simply in recompense for him knowing my nature almost immediately upon our meeting. He has a knack for that, you see. Seeing through illusions and transformations. Through reality itself. He can see quite a bit, the clever thing."

"What is he?"

"What does it matter? He is Pyro. Your beloved, exuberant, child-like firefly, who cherishes sparkles and rainbows, fire and bloodshed in equal measure. He loves you enough to deny himself everything to keep you content and comfortable. That should be enough."

Engineer's head hung low, eyes cast to the floor. He felt as low as a man could. "...he's scared of me?"

"Of losing you."

"All I ever wanted, ever, was for him to be happy. How could I be such an ass?"

"Some of us simply fit the role better than others," Spy smirked, picking up the other half-finished glass of scotch and handing it to the Texan.

"No, I mean it. How could I let something so damn inconsequential as weird biology be enough for me to scare Pyro into hidin' himself away? How could I be so blind as to what I was doin'?" He took a sip from the glass, grimacing as he was caught unprepared for its burn.

The kitsune mused, "Those goggles do tend to block your peripheral vision."

"I'm a damn idiot."

"I will brook no argument. A handsome idiot, all the same. Engineer, you know what to do, do you not?"

"He should have every right to hate me."

"And yet, he does not. Imagine the strength of that. He has lived since before man, ancient, and yet, it is the stocky Southerner with a shaven head that his world revolves around."

With a deep, steadying breath, Engineer stood. He downed the scotch in one go, and quickly dressed as much as he cared. Half-slung overalls covered a white tee stretched over a bare chest, his over and undershirts tucked under one arm, his boots held in the other. When he was finished, he turned to Spy, having difficulty meeting his eye. "I, uh. I'm sorry, Spy. And thanks, for explainin' to me in exactin' detail exactly why I suck."

This earned a chuckle from Spy, who had since taken to reclining on the sofa, still nude, his tails curled cozily around himself. "Always happy to provide a brow-beating, mon ami. Though I am sad to see you aren't staying to finish what you've started."

"Spy, I--"

"Don't. I'm only teasing. This is far more important than you licking—actually nothing is more important than _that_. I really hope Pyro still lets you philander a bit." Spy shivered a bit, a sharp-toothed grin across his thin face.

Engineer shook his head with a laugh. "I just got one question: why French, if you're Japanese?"

"This is my favourite form. Dashingly handsome, distinctive nose, mysterious and attractive. I have several I enjoy, but this, by far, has been the most entertaining to wear. I even make sure to keep the scars I accrue consistent when I shift back to it from other shapes. It's my darling, really. Learning French was just to complete the charade. And since, well, it fits the role of the suave, seductive saboteur more than staccato Nihongo while I'm on English speaking shores."

Engineer shrugged. "Fair enough. I'll be seein' ya," he said, slipping out the door.

"Ja, matta!" Spy called in reply with a laugh, and settled in with the rest of his scotch.

He lay there naked, musing quietly for a moment, before finally sighing and climbing to his feet. Taking hold of his undershorts, he tugged them on, his tails hanging over the waistband in back. He threw open the door and strode out into the hallway imperiously, long tails lashing behind him as he stalked down the hall.

 

*

 

"Naughty thing!" Demoman hissed, arching into Sniper's touch as the bushman nibbled along his neck, his hand slipping up under the werewolf's kilt to grope at him.

"You like that, eh?" the assassin growled, nipping at his lover's earlobe, his voice low and sultry. "Gonna make you whine and pant, Pup."

A garbled curse agreed with him, Demoman's hips canting up as Sniper teased gently at him with his fingers. It quickly turned into a frustrated grunt as they were interrupted by a knock on the door. Who in the hell was bothering them?

With a quick smooch, Sniper stood, leaving his lover to pant and regain himself on the bed as he strode across the room wearing nothing but his necklace. With no verbal warning, he threw open the door, fully exposing himself. Doing that usually served well to chase off any unwanted intruders.

He found Spy standing there in his underwear, unmasked and pink-cheeked, with the addition of three ginger fox tails trailing from his backside and curling about his legs. He looked him up, then down, then back up again. He cocked his hip out with lurid grin. "Ara, kore wa nan desu ka?"

Spy rolled his eyes. Sniper looked like the cat who'd caught the canary, hunger immediately blazing in his eyes as he looked him over. "Yes, I am a monster. No, I don't want to explain my life's story right now. I've just been left wanting by being interrupted mid-coitus for what turned into, of all things, a damned heart-to-heart, and I know what sort of pervert you are. Do you want to bed me?" the rogue blurted, affected annoyance colouring his flippant attitude.

Sniper thought a moment, then looked back into the room. "Oi, love! Turns out Spy's a kitsune, and 'e wants to shag. Can we?"  
"Thought I smelled fox. Am I in this?"

"I did not expect otherwise," Spy confirmed with a dismissive sniff.

"Yeh, definitely!"

"Then aye, get in here already!"

Sniper stepped aside and allowed Spy entry, careful to give his tails clearance before closing the door behind him.


	4. Chapter 4

A yellow sun made sense, but light is white, but also a combination of all of the colours. Pyro nodded to his reasoning as he grabbed for more crayons. He was going to need all of them if he was going to fill up his colouring book properly.

He sat on the floor of Engineer's workshop, beside the cot kept there for naps during all-nighters and impromptu cuddling sessions, hunched over his book with crayons scattered around him as he amused himself. A pen snatched from the mechanic's work table helped him add little pixies and other faeries to the field of flowers on the page, livening up a relatively mundane farmscape. It was relaxing, adding colour and beauty to something without having to worry about creating the initial artwork. He never quite understood why human adults saw such things as childish. Wasn't it a very grown up thing to add your skills to a project in collaboration with others? By publishing their art in a book for the express purpose of colouring it, they were giving permission to contribute. Pyro shook his head and coloured the grass blue.

He wondered how Engineer was doing. Right now he was likely eating Spy out, the two of them having a fine time. Would he be on the Texan's mind? Did he think of him when he was with another man, or was he just lost in the moment? Did he fantasize about him? Pyro hummed with dismay at the last thought. He hoped Engineer didn't. Anything he'd picture would be so far from the truth. The reality would be such a letdown. It was a good thing he wouldn't have to worry about seeing it.

"Pyro?" came Engineer's voice, quiet and apprehensive, echoing through the quiet shop over the low hum of machinery.

Pyro sat up with a start, wondering if he'd imagined the sound until a glance to the door revealed the shorter man peeking in through the barely-open entrance. "Dell? What're you doing back already?" He set down his crayons and climbed to his feet ungracefully, pushing his bottom up before lifting his upper body. Once up, he clapped his gloves clean against his pants with a few errant squeaks of rubber.

Engineer slipped into the room, closing the door behind him, and set down the clothes he held. "I, uh, things got sorta awkward, and we ended up talkin'."

"Talking?" Pyro looked his boyfriend over, at his half-dressed state and cocked his head to the side. He approached, meeting Engineer with a hug that was returned fiercely. Something was off, and it made the pit of his stomach bunch up. What had Spy done?

"Yeah. I—Pyro, I've been a horse's ass. I've been so wrapped up in my own stupid self that I didn't even realize what I was doin' to you."  
"Huh?"

"You must think I'm the worst son of a bitch in the world, the way I made you feel. Spy told me. Almost everything."

"He what?" Pyro went stiff in his lover's grip. What had that ginger-furred meddler done? "What do you mean?"

"He told me what my hangups've done to you. All the dumb shit with Scout and what you thought it meant. How I been makin' you feel. That I've managed to scare the hell out of the person who means the most to me in this God-forsaken world," Engineer explained, releasing Pyro to grab hold of his gloved hands, his thumbs rubbing over the taller man's knuckles. "I know that you ain't human, and I'm so sorry I made you think that somethin' like that matters one lick."

Shit. Shit, shit, shit. He did tell him. How could he betray his trust like that? Never, ever trust a trickster, let alone one working in espionage. In spite of the warmth, the gentleness of the Texan's words, cold fear crept through Pyro in tangible tangles, spiking through him and weaving into his heart like invasive roots choking the life from a garden. His hands trembled in spite of himself. "So, _does_ it matter?"

"Pyro, I love you. That ain't gonna change, no matter what. I don't care if you're just a skeleton inside that suit, or made o' jelly. I don't want you afraid to be yourself, or of me." The words tumbled over Engineer's lips before he could parse and filter them, electric blue eyes burning into the firebug's lenses. "You make me happier'n I ever been, and I know I can be a stubborn pain in the ass sometimes, but I don't want you to ever feel like you have to hide anything from me. Nothin' could change the way I feel about you, or how attracted I am to you. I'm so sorry. The last thing I ever wanted to do was hurt you."

Gloved hands squeezed flesh and plastic tightly, and Pyro pressed his forehead to his lover's. "Did he tell you what I am?"

"No."

Pyro's breath grew unsteady. "How can you be so sure you won't be disgusted or horrified? With Scout--"

"With Scout it's because the little shit makes deer noises in bed if you don't stuff somethin' in his damn mouth. I ain't uncomfortable how he looks. It's that in combination with the damn fool sounds he makes. I don't care if he ain't human. I don't care if he don't look human. It's just the barking."

"Okay, yeah," a soft puff of laughter left the firebug, "that is a little weird."

"He's a little weird," Engineer confirmed with a smile. "It all kinda balled up into one big case of the heebie-jeebies, but it ain't 'cause he's a monster. Or mythological being, or whatever's the right thing to say. And I'm sorry it scared you so much that you couldn't trust me."

"Dell," Pyro sighed, melting back into his lover's arms. He shivered, overwhelmed. Soft sniffles came from his mask, and broad, warm hands rubbed circles on his back.

"You cryin', darlin'?"

The masked man snuffled and sniffed, "I'm okay."

"It's okay. Just add it to my list of crimes. Makin' you cry."

They swayed gently side to side, the machine noises seeming to ebb and flow with their movements. Finally, after long moments of quiet sniffling, Pyro whispered, "Do you want to see?"

"I want to. If you want to show me."

A smile spread behind rubber and filters, and Pyro could barely control his breath. His whole body was alight, weightless, fluttering, a nervous energy spreading out along every limb. He reeled back from Engineer a bit, enough to look him in the eye. "I—would you be willing to take it slowly?"

"However you want. I'm done makin' you feel like you ain't got control, darlin'."

"Then I need a bandana."

Engineer thought a moment, then fetched one from his workbench, hoping it wasn't too greasy. "This good?"

"Yeah. Tie it around your eyes."

"You don't want me to see?"

"Not yet. It's—it's best if seeing is the last thing."

"Alright." The shorter man did as he was told, tying the bandana around his head to shield his eyes. He waved a hand in front of them and confirmed, "Can't see nothin'."

"Okay." You can do this. You can do this. _You can do this._

There was a long silence, and Engineer was beginning to wonder if Pyro had made a silent escape. Then he heard the tell-tale creak of rubber. It squeaked and complained, and after a bit of shuffling, the plop of something hitting the ground sounded. Two more plops followed it, then a loud shift, metal jingling and rubber slapping as what he assumed was the rest of Pyro's suit hit the floor. A pair of scraping clops signaled his boots being shed, and he guessed that must be it. He released the breath he'd been holding, only to hiss in a new one when a pair of hands grasped his own.

It was amazing. Warmth spread from those hands, flowing and gentle, seeping into his skin like a hot bath after a cold winter's day, soaking in and easing the tension from him. They were smooth, soft, like they'd never seen a day's work, and there was a gentle tingle of motion about them, where even while still, they left a feeling of being caressed against his skin. It was entirely unique, and entirely pleasant, and he couldn't help his face splitting in a wide smile. "Pyro, your hands."

A muted, relieved laugh met him, and soon those hands were brought upward and pressed on either side of a narrow jaw. The same tingle followed him here, and at Pyro's encouragement, he began to feel him. His flesh was smooth, and still so warm, like he was feverish all over. His fingers traced along a slim nose that came to a blunt end without much width, lips neither thin nor especially full, and cheekbones that sat high and prominent beneath almond-shaped eyes with long lashes. His brow was slight, and Engineer marveled at how handsome he felt. Venturing higher, he found a pair of small horns, barely longer than his thumb, poking from the top of Pyro's forehead, curving up and back, away from his face. Beyond that was what he thought was hair, tousled and moving seemingly of its own accord in a nonexistent breeze that seemed to tease at him from below. It was thin, with loose, whorling curls, and hung long past his shoulders, where his hands found themselves drawn next, to broad shapes and muscle that extended down a smooth chest to a chubby paunch. The light giggle that accompanied his attention paid with roaming hands around his ticklish tummy brought an even broader smile to the Texan's face. He slid down Pyro's sides, over wide hips and down to a butt that fit well in his hands. He groped a bit, enjoying the unmuffled sound of his lover's laughter. It was throaty, but had a low warmth and infectious quality about it, like short strokes of a well-rosined bow upon a cello. There was music in his mirth, but not melody. It was felt, not followed, and it vibrated between them in their breathless joy.

Engineer sank to his knees, running his hands reverently down Pyro's legs, feeling the muscle and softness together that hummed and tingled against him, and coming up, cupped at the firebug's testicles, fingers dancing along the short, flaccid length of his cock. This earned him a light gasp, and when he stood, he wrapped strong arms around the taller man, holding him close. "You're beautiful."

Pyro spoke, his voice a low tenor against his palate, undercut with tentative relief. "I hope so."

"Your voice," the mechanic whispered, his voice quavering, the words leaving his mouth like a prayer. The faint scent of burning wood filled the air, with a light undercurrent of spices that reminded Engineer of pumpkin pie and autumn. "May I see you?"

"You're sure?"

"Only if you are."

That silence came again, and in the long moment, Engineer simply let himself enjoy the warmth of his lover, letting it seep into his bones, and hoping dearly he'd never lose this privilege. When fingers began to fiddle with the bandana and its shadow was lifted from his eyes, he made sure not to open them without permission.

"Go ahead," Pyro murmured, terror and anticipation fighting for dominance across the battlefields of his mind and gut.

Engineer opened his eyes, looking up into Pyro's face, and his breath caught. The first thing he saw were his lover's eyes, yellow and glowing, full of hope and horror in equal measure. They were otherworldly, innocent and wizened, ancient and young, and they made the human feel weak in his knees. He wasn't sure what he was seeing once he could wrench his gaze away from those lovely eyes, and he took a step back, capturing Pyro's hands in his to ensure he didn't mistake his intentions. He needed a better view.

Pyro looked exactly as he felt, handsome and stout with a muscular upper body and soft fat around his middle. His face was androgynous and attractive and his hair, indeed, wandered about in invisible breezes. What Engineer hadn't been prepared for was the fact that Pyro was also made entirely of fire.

Red, white, yellow, blue, and orange swirled and danced throughout the shape of the firebug's body, gently flickering but never changing form, colours licking against and between one another as he blazed brightly in place. What would be hair were long lashes of darkened flame, curling and guttering in long trails that curved downward and flickered up, prancing about even as he stood still. He gave off a muted light, but was neither bright nor dim, the warmth of his body filling the air around him with a comfortable sort of ambiance.

He was solid, but looked not even slightly so, and when his lips parted in a smile, his teeth were white fire given shape. He was nervous, brows cast up in worry, hands squeezing Engineer's tightly.

Please don't scream. Please, please don't scream.

"Pyro," Engineer gasped, the light of his lover reflected in his wide eyes, his jaw slack, wonder writing itself all over his features in broad, bold strokes. He looked him up and down, down and up, breathless and baffled and utterly enthralled with the ephemeral beauty standing in flesh of flame before him. "You're _beautiful_."

That nervous smile split into something broad and earnest, full of unbridled joy, and with a few key differences—mostly the material it was made out of—it was the kind of smile Engineer had always imagined would grace his lover's face. "Really?"

Those strong arms were back around him in an instant, and Engineer answered the question the way he'd always wanted to. He tipped up onto his toes and kissed Pyro.

His fantasies couldn't compare. Pyro's lips were silky, almost impossibly so, heating his own as they pressed close. They clung together, uneven breaths puffing through their noses as their hands pet and gripped, caressed and grasped, holding each other so close they feared they may meld together as one. Lips parted, tongues seeking one another, and Pyro tasted of wood and cinnamon, his tongue hot in Engineer's mouth, tangling with his own in a dance not of dominance, but of the desperate need for contact.

The firebug whined into his lover's mouth, a muffled moan of relief and elation, and when they finally broke their kiss, he was both literally and figuratively glowing. "Engie," he sighed, pressing their foreheads together, a familiar motion.

"So, what exactly are you, aside from the most beautiful creature I ever laid eyes on?" the Texan hummed, hands sliding up to cup his lover's face. His thumb pet idly at Pyro's cheek.

"I'm a djinni," the man made of flame replied, unable to stop smiling.

"A genie?"

"Close. It's where the word comes from. Djinn are older than man, but younger than the gods. One of the first peoples created, like the fae. We're immortal, and pretty much made of magic given shape in heatless flame. Well, mostly heatless. Flame that won't burn you, I guess."

"You're made of magic?"

"Not literally, but figuratively. I can do a lot of things innately that most others have to make an effort or learn magic to do. Like see ambient magic, or the different layers of reality."

"So that's what Spy meant when he said you could see a lot of things?"

"You know how I go off into my own little world of sparkles and colours? That's me looking through reality the fae typically dwell in. It's coterminous and exists alongside the material world, where we are. So I can see the fae people and creatures and places, and its ambient magic, overlapped atop the 'real' world, kind of. It's...weird and hard to explain. But basically I can see all of the layers that make up reality, sometimes at the same time, if I bother to try. And I like the fae stuff, the Otherworld, because it's pretty."

"That's amazin'."

"It's mostly amusing," Pyro corrected with a soft laugh.

" _You're_ amazin'," Engineer rejoined, pressing kisses along the djinni's smooth jaw.

"No, that's you."

They nuzzled together, peppering one another's face with kisses, swaying gently in the middle of the quiet workshop.

"Dell?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm a dumb coward baby."

"I'm an stubborn ignorant jackass."

"Do you have any other questions about me?"

"This is all so much I'm not even sure what to ask. But it's a great kind of so much. The kinda so much that's makin' my face hurt for smilin'," Engineer teased gently. "I don't wanna sound ungrateful, but is you bein' made of fire what made foolin' around in the suit a problem? Is it not something you can really do, or want to do? Were you just humourin' me? Or is there somethin' I'm missin'?"

"It is the reason, but not because I didn't want to, or can't. I'm made of solid fire, but I'm still made of fire, and when I get overwhelmed, I kind of...," Pyro hemmed, trying to figure out a way to describe it, "spread out."

"Spread out?"

"I lose my shape. I'm still me, and I don't lose parts or control, but I tend to sort of spread. Because I'm fire. And whenever we got anywhere, I'd feel myself slipping, spreading, and it would give me away if suddenly flames started licking out of the seams in the suit, you know?"

Engineer nodded. It made sense. "So it wasn't me?"

"Well it was you. You being too damned hot," Pyro laughed.

"...was that a pun?"

"What—no! Oh, you suck!" the djinni swatted at his boyfriend, the two breaking out into a fit of chuckles. "That had better not be a precedent of things to come or I'm not comin' back out of the suit."

"You have to put it on again?"

"For work, at least. And to leave the base. I can cast spells to take mortal shapes but honestly I'm good at transmuting anything but myself. My nature's so weird that magic tends to not like sticking to me." In response to a surprised cock of Engineer's eyebrow, he spread his arms out in exasperation, "I know, right?"

"But for me?"

"For you, only if you want me to."

"Why would I ever want that?"

"We both know you have a thing for rubber." Pyro chuckled a bit, doubly so when his lover pouted in return.

"You got me there," he admitted.

Slipping fiery arms around the shorter man's waist, the djinni pulled Engineer back into his embrace, humming contentedly as strong arms circled his shoulders. "You feel amazing. You know that? Your skin, your lips, the stubble on your head and your jaw? It's unreal. Fantasies can't compare."

"I'm inclined to agree about my own," Engineer grinned.

"I want to feel all of you. I want to make love to you. I want to make up for all of this lost time wasted on both of us being assholes."

"You're sure?" The Texan's breath picked up as he looked into his lover's glowing eyes, so full of adoration.

"There's a cot right over there, and I'm naked," Pyro teased, tugging the shorter man toward the offending furniture.

"I'll never say no to you, Py."

"That's _so_ going to end up with you getting in trouble," Pyro laughed. He let go of Engineer long enough to flop onto the cot and stretch, allowing the Texan's eyes to rove over his supine form, the flames that licked up his broad, soft body, then scooted over onto his side and patted the mattress beside him.

"Don't have to tell me twice," came Engineer's mumble as he quickly shed his clothes, tugging it all off in a desperate dash to clamber onto the cot beside the djinni. Arms quickly found their way back around warm bodies as they collided, crushing their lips together again in frantic kisses, hands roving shoulders to hips in gentle touches in the heat and excitement of the culmination of too much anticipation and denial.

Their bodies cleaved together, soft pudge and hard muscle clinging tight and undulating in unison, hands roving wherever they could, groping, squeezing, petting and teasing. Pyro tickled through Engineer's chest hair, carding his fingers through it, nearly lost in the sensation. With a particularly firm grasp of Pyro's butt, Engineer managed to roll the djinni atop himself so that he could lay on his back and look up at the man made of living flame upon him. He was radiant, perfect, entirely otherworldly, and Engineer thought he'd never truly understood majesty until he looked upon him.

"I think I understand what beauty is now."

Pyro laughed, and blue flames licked his cheeks in what the Texan assumed was a blush. "I thought that fell under conundrums of philosophy."

"Ain't nothin' practical 'bout love, darlin'."

A careful, mechanical hand cupped the back of Pyro's head, threading between the spiraling, curling fires that comprised his hair, and drew him back down for more kisses. Almost immediately, Pyro laid himself over Engineer's body, putting as much of them in contact with one another as he could. He ran his hands over Engineer's chest and shoulders, belly and sides, feeling as much as he could of the stout human, relishing every beautiful texture and shape. He was gorgeous, and felt even better than he'd always imagined. He wanted to feel Engineer everywhere, to map his body and sear it into his memory. He knew every inch of how it looked, but now he knew how it felt. How it smelled. And he could never, ever give it up. He suddenly felt very jealous that so many people had enjoyed him when he'd not had the chance. When he'd denied himself the chance. He would make up for it in glorious excess. He rocked his hips, rubbing against Engineer's burgeoning erection with his own, shivering at the contact. It had been a very, very long time for the ancient djinni.

Engineer groaned, his hands returning to squeeze Pyro's butt, urging his motions as he bucked up to meet him. Their lips mashed together, tongues sparring, voices colliding between them. They rutted together, bodies rolling, hips meeting, breaths fading into moans and filling the expanse of the workshop, which seemed so tiny to them. Their world consisted entirely of the two of them and their creaky cot, and as the growing haze of pleasure wore through them, Pyro's warmth engulfing him, Engineer soon realized that Pyro was actually engulfing him.

Flames, unburning and pleasant, spread over his bare flesh, bleeding off of Pyro who seemed to be losing his very shape. The pressure and contact were still there, the sensation of a body grinding against his not lessened in the slightest. But before his widened eyes, fire crawled over his chest and shoulders, around his sides, up and down his legs, dancing along every knuckle and tipping every hair. It waved and guttered, dancing without burning. It was difficult to tell where Pyro began and ended, and with the traveling flames came his nerves lighting up like fairy lights.

It spread in the trail of moving fire, erupting pleasure in a rolling wave along his skin, sparking and hot, blazing over every inch of his flesh. It was every soft bed, every hot bath, every fluffy pillow and sunny day. It was the caress of beloved hands, the blaze of passionate kisses, the scorch of a skilled tongue. It was everything, all at once, and it nearly overwhelmed Engineer as, in those same moments, Pyro continued to thrust against him, grinding him into a blissful near-oblivion.

Fires blazed inside and out, building pressure that threatened to drive him to madness. The friction and motion fueled him, building him higher and higher. As Pyro's flames licked at his flesh, immolating him in orgiastic sensation, he could hear the djinni gasping and whimpering, the soft sounds of his pleasure voiced without source from the amorphous conflagration he had become.

Engineer's husky voice was reduced to base whimpers, little groans as he rolled his hips and clutched at the bed, unsure if Pyro even had any shape left. There was barely even pressure against him anymore, his nerves sparkling, lighting up like millions of tiny fireworks in the night. It didn't matter. Not with Pyro completely consuming him with his own form. He bucked up, and the djinni ground down, some modicum of friction still to be found, some vestige of shape still lost amidst the inferno, and billowing waves of heat flowed through him. He reached his peak, teetering, and with a final, rough press of flesh to fiery flesh, fell, moaning his release as he came between them.

Pyro seemed to begin congealing back into his natural shape, lips finding the Texan's neck, nose snuffling against his skin as those warm hips picked up speed, clearly not far behind the human. With a cry and a shudder, Pyro joined Engineer in orgasmic heaven, painting their bellies in turn. Flames licked up off of his back as he came down, settling back into his proper form. He went limp atop his lover, gasping for air.

"That," Engineer breathed, bewildered and beguiled, "was somethin' else."

"You alright?" the djinni asked in a bare mumble, spent.  
"I'm better than alright." The human wrapped himself tightly around his panting Pyro, capturing him in a long, gentle kiss. They both seemed to be trembling a bit. "So much more."

"You feel amazing."

"Right now? Yeah I do," Engineer chuckled, letting his fingers play through Pyro's flaming hair.

"You liked that?"

"I liked everything. The spreading thing, though. That, that was somethin' else. Somethin' I ain't got enough superlatives in my vocabulary to properly compliment."

"You have too many words for a time like this," Pyro mumbled, nosing in at the shorter man's jawline. It earned a soft laugh and a sigh as they cuddled up close.

Silence settled between them, the quiet hum of ambient machinery like the thrum of their skin, electric and excited. They cuddled together, sticky and uncaring, bodies pressed tightly. As their breathing slowed, they wore dreamy smiles, pressing lazy kisses to whatever skin was nearest. After long moments, Pyro lifted his head, glowing eyes peering into his lover's bright blues.

"Hey Engie?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

"I love you too, darlin'."

"And I'm dumb for being so scared."

"I'm dumb for scarin' you."

"I'm not arguing."

Engineer hooked a finger into Pyro's armpit, grinning at the ticklish yelp that he garnered. This was going to definitely improve his tickle game.

**Author's Note:**

> Massive thanks to VoxMyriad for her assistance with betaing this piece.


End file.
